I see night,
its black eyes long distant
longer than history

drag pin-sharp stars
that wink like ship's lifeboats
searching survivors.

The sun no longer lives when light fails.
The lonely man in his loneness
cries to his dream-god
wears a body of white light, perhaps
lives again colorless years

where bones sang endless torments
of unsatisfied love, memory now
overthrown by forgetfulness. But, it
is night that remains

mirrors fears of the living day. Only the old
and the lonely really know what night is,
what happens there
their eyes ashes of lost fires

that once burned in eager faces weathered by wind
and rain, the dark movements that
drown the brain in worry, dark, like the earth, brown,
furrowed in pain.....

Night is like that, worn also by light,wind
and water. Its what happens to the man/woman
who walk early light
plucks words from the rising sun
drinks the nectar of many midnight moons

shapes murmurings from the shadows
climbs out of silence
out of the dark, poems stronger than thunder
words ever in motion
like the slow seamless ocean,

night can teach us much about stillness
its blackness its endless journey to nothingness
to no end....
*